I Die To Live Again
by Dark Epiphany
Summary: A spin on Jarlaxle's past written after much thought at 0200 when sleep won't come. CH II is up.
1. Born to Die

Disclaimer: After many weeks of therapy I have come to terms with the fact that I do not own FR. I just spend my time dreaming about all the things I would like to do if I _did _own the characters mentioned here. Well, the male ones that is...

A/N: So many theories about how Jarlaxle came to be. This is my theory. I don't really know if it fits in all that well with the books, but so little hard evidence is known about Jarlaxle that I hardly worry. If you want another view on his growing up years, Rainbow in the Dark by Dave is another really good one. The names for Matron Baenre's children and sister came from a naming chart online (except for Solaufein, because he was on BGII). If anyone wants the chart, send me a review saying as much & I'll post the address or something.

CH I: Born to Die

Matron Baenre looked to the altar and the male that lay there. In some alternate reality, she could have loved him. He was everything she would want a daughter to be, and this early on in the life of her house, she needed a strong female. So, she had lain with the male and now he, the strongest male in the house, lay sleeping and unaware of what was to come.

Pushing the uncharacteristic thoughts from her mind, she picked up the ceremonial dagger, beginning her chant. Louder and louder it grew, waking the male. He looked at the dagger, then Matron Baenre, horror on his features. He didn't have time to move, even scream, as the dagger was thrust into his chest. The legs animated and grasped at his heart. Blood coloured his chest and dripped onto the altar. One quick movement later his heart was literally torn from his chest.

The heart was immediately put in a small golden bowl, beating once or twice more before going still as if realizing that it no longer had life. Baenre put the weapon aside, immediately beginning to pray to her dark deity.

The hours passed like minutes, and several hours later, right as the matron was about to give up and accept that Lolth had not heard, the few candles on the altar were blown out and the heart in the small bowl burst into flames, the fire rising high and blinding the female before slowly going back down. On the altar was a yochlol. Matron Baenre felt blessed indeed.

"Give the child to Lolth and your house will be blessed beyond that of any previous house," was all it said. Then it was gone.

To Baenre, that meant that her prayers were answered. The child would be a female. After all, all High Priestesses of Lolth were given to the Lady! She wouldn't be schooled in anything other than that, she would be the most ardent of Lolth's followers, Baenre thought. That would make up for her two previous children. Worthless males.

Matron Baenre smiled and turned from the altar. She stood and dusted off her robes. Her house had been given Lolth's promise this day. With that Matron Baenre hurried off to the small chapel to speak with her sister. This called for celebration.

Six months later she sat in her sister's private room. Shribryn had promised to check up on the Matron and the baby every three months to assure the health of both. If it was as her sister promised, then this Lolth-blessed child would be spoiled indeed, and there was no expense to large to insure her and her mother's health.

"Well, Yvonnel, you certainly are carrying her the same way you carried Solaufein and Nymaonar," the younger of the two commented. Matron Baenre looked at her sister, thinking that she doubted her words of three months earlier.

"Rest assured, Shribryn, Chessala was promised to me by Lolth. My house will have nobles-- true nobles --soon." Shribryn just nodded.

"Lady Lolth has ever provided for us," she stated, as was expected of her. It was true, after all. The two had left the house they had once belonged to, the second house, once they thought they had enough power to start a house of their own. Yvonnel had quickly assumed the superior position, choosing the Weapon Master for the house and a patron as well. There were quite a few times when Shribryn was sure that a lesser house would attack, but Lolth had always seen them through.

But Shribryn wasn't exactly loyal to the fickle Spider Queen.

"She will be born late." Shribryn predicted, having to watch herself lest she say 'he' instead of 'she'. Shribryn honestly believed that this third child was male, as had been the two before. She'd seen the way a female was carried, and this most assuredly was not it. Shribryn wisely kept the thought to herself.

"Yes. And my third child will be female. Chessala has been blessed of Lolth." Matron Baenre stood to go, then paused, looking at her sister. "And Shribryn, you should call me by my title from now on. You wouldn't want the commoners to get the wrong idea, or any other _unfortunate_ incidents."

Shribryn nodded. "Yes, Matron," she replied respectfully, noting the implied threat. Her sister left, leaving Shribryn alone. "What do you know, first thoughts of a female child and one who was once a sister turns into a sour old lady." She sighed and went back to what she was doing before her sister had come in. Shribryn took out the statuette of Shar, cleaning it with a soft rag, and humming to herself.

Nearly four months later, Matron Baenre went into labour. The child was late, just as Shribryn had said she would be. The two were alone in Yvonnel's room, candles lit at the altar in anticipation of the birth of the first female of House Baenre. It was a long, tense time before the child was born. Finally she came forth.

"My daughter," Baenre said quietly, reaching for the child. Shribryn turned about, holding the babe. The look of shock on Matron Baenre's face was complete.

"Your son," Shribryn corrected.

"I know that you idiot," Yvonnel spat, disgust written clearly on her features. "I will have no priests in my house. If Lolth wants the child, she may have him. Face to face. Giving him to her one way is as good as another." Shribryn tried not to sigh. Having a priest instead of a priestess to help clean the chapel might have been interesting.

"He will need a name," she stated simply, placing the baby on the altar. Matron Baenre looked the other way.

"Wruz'roos," she supplied.

"Wruz'roos, then," Shribryn agreed. She lifted the ceremonial dagger and the babe. _Farewell, little one_ she thought, just about to plunge the blade into his tiny chest.

"Wait!" Baenre commanded. Shribryn stopped, confused. "He will be burnt at the dawn of the next day; we will beg Lolth's forgiveness. Make sure his brothers attend that they might see the glory of our Goddess. Until then, you will take care of him."

Shribryn nodded dumbly, putting the dagger aside.

The Abyss was dark, that was for sure. The succubus looked through the mirror into the Material Plain and the slightly brighter Menzoberranzan. Matron Baenre's child had been a boy! Lolth must have known by now, there was no possible way that one as powerful as she would not know. It had to have been a trick of Tymora; even Lady Lolth thought that this child would be a female!

Wruz'roos. The child's name was Wruz'roos. The name didn't please the succubus at all, especially if the child was blessed by Tymora. Why would Tymora care, though, about a servant of Lolth? The two hated each other just as all of the deities hated Lolth and evil Lolth hated all of the other deities (unless there was something for her to gain, of course). There was one way to find out. With that the succubus ran off to her demon lord, keeping the name in the foremost of her thoughts. She would have to know about this one's future, and the demon she served was so much stronger than she was. The succubus had been barren far too long, not that it mattered anyway, for most of the children that the others bore were killed at birth. Having this little drow child to raise, especially if he proved to have some strange or exciting future, would be relief indeed.

For Matron Baenre, dawn couldn't come soon enough, though in her dark world dawn just came when the light of Narbondel reached half way up when it was climbing the pillar. She had spent most of the time after giving birth to the forsaken child in prayer, hoping to find some answer for this turn of events. Praying passed the time, it always did, but the heat of Narbondel still seemed to creep more slowly than usual, as if the magical force that drove it knew of the Matron's desire and wished to keep her suffering.

In her own room, Shribryn held the baby close, watching him sleep. He was a beautiful child, there was no doubt about it. Shribryn was rather sure that if he somehow escaped death he would break hearts one day. She smirked at that thought. Breaking hearts was contingent upon drow having hearts, and most did not. She looked to her window, looking out at Narbondel. The babe had one hour left to live.

Shribryn sighed and left the room to head off to the barracks. Solaufein and Nymaonar would not be pleased at having to be woken earlier than usual. _They'll live_ Shribryn thought. She kissed the babe's forehead and continued on her way.

The succubus grinned, showing her pointed teeth, as she learned of the child's future. There was so much potential in this one! He would have to be brought up correctly, though, and he would have to be spared the sight of Lolth until he grew older (lest he be scarred into terror eternally). Wruz'roos had indeed been blessed by Tymora. After grovelling at the demon's feet for a short eternity the succubus went off to tell Lolth of the glorious chaos this one could cause.

Solaufein and Nymaonar stood behind their aunt respectfully, silent and eyes staring straight ahead. Neither dared to look at either female lest it be their death. Matron Baenre knelt beside her personal altar, preparing for the coming sacrifice. She wore her cleric's robes as did her sister, the babe in Shribryn's arms cooing contentedly as he looked at the bright spider designs, an orange colour that was rarely seen in the Underdark, much less in dark elven society.

Finally Matron Baenre stood, a small bed of stiff mushroom stalks having been built on the altar. "Welcome, sister, my sons," she greeted, looking at those that had come to her room. She addressed her sons, "Feel blessed that you have been allowed to witness this, a sacrifice to our most holy Spider Queen."

"All praise to the Spider Queen," Solaufein answered automatically.

"Ever has She seen us through battle," Nymaonar added thoughtlessly. Matron Baenre mumbled something about 'mindless speaking machines' and the general stupidity of males before continuing. Shribryn had to look down and pretend she was tending to the baby to hide her smirk from her irritated sister.

"Bring the babe," Matron Baenre commanded, motioning to Shribryn. With more than a little hesitance she placed Wruz'roos on the bed of sticks. He started to cry, the mushroom stalks poking the soft skin on his back. Wruz'roos kicked his little legs in the air and the pitch of his scream increased. The four adult drow in the room winced and covered their ears.

"Shall we continue, Matron?" Solaufein hazarded to say. The Matron nodded, ignoring her son's boldness in addressing her given the current situation. She quickly cast a spell to envelope the child in silence, leaving the others in a quiet room with the ability to still chant to the Spider Queen.

Chant they did, the Matron pouring holy oil on the male and the mushroom bed. One crescendo in the chant was reached. At that point Matron Baenre lit the bed with one of the few candles that surrounded the altar. The flame caught easily, licking at the baby's skin and eventually catching.

Shribryn did well to hide her horror. She continued in the chant long enough to make sure the other three were lost in theirs before quietly changing her chant to one of a prayer to Shar. She silently thanked her Goddess that Yvonnel had the presence of mind to cast a silencing spell around the baby that the screams could not be heard. The chant continued as Wruz'roos continued to burn, the child screaming and crying though it could not be heard, the baby fat melting away from his form.

From the Abyss, Lolth looked on the ceremony with interest. Such a ceremony for a male babe! Though, the chants were indeed pleasing and the screams of the child were incredibly satisfying, she found it hard to believe that even her most fervent of followers would make such an ornate deal out of the ritual of sacrificing the third born male.

"Lady Lolth," came a voice. Lolth rolled her eyes, hardly caring for the words of a mere succubus to the entertainment that came from watching her servants do her bidding.

"Yes, Calazzesla?" Lolth asked. Though the question had truly not been said in anger, venom practically dripped from the words.

"The babe that has been sacrificed, he is blessed of Tymora," Calazzesla said.

"Joy," Lolth replied sarcastically. She sincerely hoped that was the most important thing the succubus had to say. Then it would give her a reason, though she hardly needed one, to torture the poor creature to death.

"Lady Lolth, you do not understand. I have seen his future," Calazzesla continued.

"What do I care about the future of a mere male?" Lolth inquired sharply. Calazzesla smiled, going into a short explanation of what was to come if the male would be allowed to live. Amusingly enough, he would have a higher understanding of chaos and law, good and evil, as well as increasingly good fortunes given Tymora's blessing and the fall of a coin that gave him that blessing. Calazzesla finished her tale. Lolth found it terribly ironic that Tymora had caused the child to be male when Lolth had given her blessings to secure that the child would be female, and that this mere male child would be most everything that she wished a perfect servant of hers to be.

"You understand now?" Calazzesla asked hopefully.

"The child has already been sacrificed," Lolth answered dryly. Indeed, the babe had died only seconds before and was certainly on his way to the plane that all went to when they died, before representatives of the deity they followed were sent to gather them.

"Grant to me this: allow me to go and get him, and allow him to be resurrected. I shall raise him that greatness such as yours should not be troubled with the likes of a mere male. Then, when he is of age and has been gifted enough talent, he may return to the surface realm to play out his fate." Lolth nodded. She herself would resurrect the child, that some of her own essence might be given to him. How fitting it seemed that a child Tymora decreed to be male, the sex Lolth hated, would be given life again by Lolth herself! What Tymora had intended to be a snub to Lolth would be turned to the extreme opposite, Lolth's insult to Tymora. And his life would be curiously long, having at least a percent of a Goddess' blood in him. More time for chaos, Lolth thought.

"I grant you that," Lolth said. "On the condition that you bring him to me, and me alone, to be resurrected."

Calazzesla left quickly, only too happy to have a child of her own to raise. It had been so long since she had had a child!

Lolth stood alone, looking down at Matron Baenre, her blasphemous sister, and the two males that mindlessly chanted alongside their mother without care for the words. Matron Baenre had still given birth to this child, despite the fact that it was a he and not a she. Yvonnel could hardly be blamed. Besides, the ritual had pleased Lolth greatly. She saw no reason not to bless Baenre's house and take that name, Blessed by Fell Powers, to a whole new meaning.

During the course of the next three years Matron Baenre was blessed with the birth of six healthy females, all of whom were sure to be High Priestesses. Already she had another on the way, and Shribryn was certain that it would be a female as well (after the incident with Wruz'roos, Matron Baenre had ceased to question her sister's judgement in such things). She was sure that Lolth had heard her prayers and blessed her, though she couldn't be quite sure why the sacrifice of a male would please her Goddess so.

But, as proof that she had, indeed, please Lady Lolth, the first female had been conceived soon after the sacrifice of Wruz'roos. It was quite a puzzle indeed!

Yvonnel Baenre knew better than to question the blessings of Lolth, however, and thought no more about it or her dead son but only of the great gifts she had been given.

A/N: There you have it, the first chapter of this fic. Reviews are welcomed, adored, cherished, etc. Tell me what you think!


	2. The Living Dead

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement or other such nonsense intended, only good, clean, die-hard fan obsession.

A/N: Many thanks to my reviewers. Also, I'd like to apologize in advance for this chapter. I was seriously lacking in information on the planes and so if I made any extremely huge mistakes feel free to tell me. I'll fix them based on what information I can get and repost if applicable.

* * *

CH II: The Living Dead

Calazzesla raced across the planes as fast as she, a mere succubus, could. She knew she shouldn't care so much about a child, a male drow child at that. However, Calazzesla was still female. Somewhere in her she still felt some semblance of the needs every woman has, including that to have children. What seemed like eons earlier in her life she had been allowed to keep a child she had borne. Calazzesla had subsequently been yearning for that feeling since the time that her first child, a female, had grown into maturity.

Once where she needed to be, Calazzesla looked about. Here the souls of the dead had gathered, waiting to be taken to be with their chosen deity. But what of a babe who had chosen no member of the pantheon? she wondered. The soul of the child would still have to arrive here, and souls could not simply be destroyed (though it had certainly been done before, and would doubtlessly be done again) immediately.

She scanned the area around her, not even noticing the horrified stares she was given by the followers of the gods of good. One area in particular caught her eye, that of new souls arriving and being helped to stand in the plane after death, a disorienting experience indeed. Calazzesla floated to that area, tapping one of the creatures on the shoulder.

The tiefling turned around, jumping a little in surprise. "Ah...many greetings creature of the Abyss," he greeted in Calazzesla's native tongue.

"I look for a child, newly arrived," the succubus stated, cutting straight to the point. The tiefling bit back the sarcastic retort on his tongue.

"If you could be a bit more specific..."

"A male drow child. A Baenre, at that." Recognition seemed to dawn on the male's face and he waved his hand at a female tiefling across the way. She came over, a babe in her arms.

"Wruz'roos," the female stated in relation to the child. He was naught more than a spirit, a dark grey mass with barely distinguishable features. "Shall I resurrect him?"

"No!" Calazzesla answered, mayhap a bit too quickly. The two tieflings looked at her curiously and she glared. She hissed, "Just give me the child!" She reached for him, sharp fingernails poking at the less than corporeal mass. The female tiefling hid a shudder, turning the baby over to Calazzesla. Then in a flash the succubus was gone.

* * *

Lolth looked displeased when Calazzesla finally arrived. "You took ages," she said flatly. Calazzesla looked at her feet and presented Wruz'roos to the lady. Lolth scrunched up her nose and took the child. She couldn't rightly make out his features aside from pointed ears and dark crimson eyes. Returning the child to Calazzesla, Lolth pricked her finger, a drop of blood falling on the grey fuzz that was the child. Where the blood fell skin could be seen. The goddess began to chant, the blood spreading over Wruz'roos' form. Slowly he began to reform, screaming when finally his lungs returned to existence, the new organs stretching for the first time. The layers on his body continued to reform, bones, muscles, organs and skin.

Finally the chanting stopped. Lolth looked down at the crying babe, holding him by his ankle. She carelessly flung the child to Calazzesla. The succubus scrambled to catch him, falling ungracefully on her rump but managing to grab the child before he hit the rocky ground. Stark white hair fell in front of his chubby face and crimson eyes. The succubus pushed back the hair causing the baby to giggle.

Lolth rolled her eyes.

"Be gone from me," the goddess ordered curtly. Calazzesla hurried to her feet, turning to go but pausing.

"Might I rename him, my lady?" she asked.

Lolth growled, "As you will, providing that you leave this meeting in possession of your life." Calazzesla took the hint and rushed off as quickly as she could.

* * *

Once far, far away from the now irritated goddess, Calazzesla stopped to look at the child. "Wruz'roos," she said, making a face of obvious distaste. "It doesn't fit you." She paused a moment longer, rocking the infant back and forth in her arms. He cooed and giggled, batting at the female's long hair.

Calazzesla sighed, as happy as a succubus (of all creatures) could be. "Jarlaxle," she said finally. Jarlaxle, charmed ally. The babe squealed happily, apparently liking the name. It fit him well.

With that Calazzesla continued back to her demon lord, the newly named Jarlaxle in her arms.


End file.
